A Night With the Consulting Criminal
by MoriartyPosts
Summary: Oneshot! Jim Moriarty/ OFC (original female character). Second person writing and plenty of lemons. Rated M. You knew it would never be easy, spending the night with the consulting criminal, but never had you anticipated a scenario quite like this.


**A/N Okay firstly apologies for decided to stick with the one shot version of this story but I hope you enjoy it. I've re-edited it and changed/added things. I've decided to split the one shot into two because it was getting rather long! Also please note this hasn't been beta read.**

A Rough Encounter

He took both of your hands into his as he led you out of the lift. You weren't quite sure where you were but you honestly did not care. _Tonight is my night. I am going to let loose and have some fun. It's fine. Don't worry. I can do this. _

Your inner pep talk is cut short as the feeling of soft delicate circles being rubbed on your wrist draws you back to reality. Looking up, you see the very same lust and want you feel replicated in his eyes. No longer wanting to wait, you take him by surprise and make the first move. You can tell he wasn't expecting the kiss but much to your pleasure it didn't take him long to return the passion equally. Releasing your wrists, he puts his arm around your waist, pulling you into him. His iron clad grip hooks you in, both your fronts completely touching, the pleasure of warmth making you fall into complete submission. You know he of all people luxuriates in the sense of mastery, and tonight you plan to give him full authority.

Noticing the height difference, he decides to move his hands down, travelling from your waist to your thigh whilst taking plenty of time to feel what's soon to be his, before lifting you up. Wrapping both your legs and arms around him, you allow your full body weight to lean onto him. He pulls out from the kiss and looks directly at you, a smirk creeping across his face. Too much in a haze of longing you are only able to repay his stare with a rather embarrassing sultry one. _Holy shit, I am going to sleep with Jim Moriarty. _

Moriarty begins to walk away from the lift to, you presume, his apartment. Your head bangs against a solid wooden door as he takes you into another kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth. Even as he searches in his pocket for the door key, his mouth never breaks away from yours. Taking one arm around you he fumbles with the keyhole and with the clinking of a lock, the door slips open from behind you.

Momentarily, you think you are going to fall, but Moriarty's hold remains strong. Gently, he eases you down as he slams the door closed. His hands return to your wrists as he leads you through his apartment into his bedroom. You keep your eyes closed, too involved with the passion of the moment, so you do not get a chance to familiarise yourself with the interior. However, needless to say the interior décor is the last thing on your mind.

Once inside the bedroom, Moriarty switches on a light, and a dim glow cascades the floor, revealing the simplistic yet stunning room.

Continuing to guide you through, you feel the wood of his bed hit the back of you shins as you lean over onto the bed, the only thing stopping you from falling is Moriarty's vice like grasp. Lifting you up once more, he places you onto the bed. You sit there as he looks down on you and allow yourself to look at your master, to study him more.

You notice the rogue look he has oddly makes him handsome. His brown dominating eyes dig into you, his stare mesmerising and completely unreadable. He tilts his head, as to find a better angle to examine you, his eyes narrowing in a condescending way. Feeling rather humiliated by the way Moriarty is mapping you out; you shuffle slightly and kick off your heels to one side. In attempt to be smaller, you retreat your legs closer to your body.

Despite the fact he appears to be an ordinary man, Moriarty was far from the average male citizen. Every known criminal organisation is controlled at his hands, every crime from daylight robbery of your plane Jane to the assignation of a diplomat was decided by him. His entire persona screams with danger but you find him too alluring to back off. You are paralysed in a state of lust, awaiting pleasure.

Confusion settles in as you realise how differently he now stares and how differently his crooked smile hangs from his face. His eyes have darkened and intensified. Traces of his sinister capabilities leak through and you wonder what he is planning to do with you. Fear runs through every cell of your body, your muscles become stiffer and your breathing slowers to an uneven rate. His personality was just so mercurial, he was unpredictable. Knowing the potential Moriarty holds, your fear of him is completely rational.

Many rumours regarding Moriarty had spread quite fast after his name was revealed with association to the crimes of Chinese gangs illegally trading arts. You had once heard he could blow up NATO in alphabetical order. Insane scenarios of how Moriarty could murder you cloud your head, at any moment now he could issue the order to take you life. To Moriarty, playing God and forcing death unto others was just as pleasurable as sex. And for you, the danger of tonight, the thrill of it sent blood pumping through your veins and for adrenaline to shoot through you.

Without a word, he stalks off to his desk and slips his coat off onto the luxurious, crushed red velvet chair. He keeps his back faced to you for a while. You can see him take off his watch and place it on the table. You hear the squeak of a drawer open and see him pull something out. You cannot help but be curious, so you shift slightly, trying to position yourself with direct view of the mysterious object. Without even turning Moriarty speaks:

"No peaking." He commands and turns around to face you, smiling oh so coyly.

With that, you quickly reposition yourself, thinking of the infinite possibilities of what lies in his hand. Whatever it is, it is well concealed now, so you try not to worry.

Moriarty strides towards you, regaining his position from earlier, directly hovering over you. He looks very pleased, almost smug. The fabric of his navy blue shirt hugs his body, nicely outlining his toned muscles. All while staring directly at you; he loosens his buckle, allowing his trousers to hang balanced on his broad pelvis.

"Now, come here." The sense of power he possesses echoes.

Wanting to obey him, you anxiously crawl towards him, but he pulls your hair manipulating your head to his level, taking you off guard. Surprisingly he releases your hair and begins kissing your neck. Not knowing where to place you hands you take them awkwardly into each other and intertwine your fingers- a sign of your nervousness. Moriarty's hands begin to work their way down, unbuttoning your shirt. With the pop of each button, he slips downwards, leaving a trail of kisses. Eventually he reaches your breasts and takes them into his hands, still kissing every inch of your bare chest. You feel such pleasure but still self conscious. Raising your hands you attempt to place them into Moriarty's gelled hair but return them timidly to your side. Sensing your discomfort, Moriarty tugs at your sleeves, pulling your shirt off and then guides your hands onto his neck. At first it felt off, but desire takes over and you let yourself wander.

Placing his hands behind your back, he unclasps your bra leaving you feeling completely exposed in comparison to a fully clothed Moriarty. Tipping you over, he sits on top of you and holds you arms to your side, restraining you.

Returning your chest, Moriarty begins kissing and biting you once more. Crescent imprints of the bite marks begin to glow and your body becomes warmer as his touch becomes rougher and harder. He hasn't recently shaved and his stubble pricks and tingles against your sensitive skin. He places a gentle kiss on your lips before sitting up once more. This time, he curls his fingers into your jeans and takes them off of you but thankfully he leaves the black lace underwear on you. The feeling of the exposure from before intensifies. Discomfort, vulnerability and fear are the three emotions that currently cloud your mind, all of which amplified as you notice Moriarty looking at you, observing you once more, examining every inch of skin and every groove and every curve. Feeling insecure, you regret eating that large piece of cake from the previous night. Satisfied with what he sees, Moriarty unbuttons his own shirt.

Relief rushes through you. He throws his shirt to one side and then leans back onto you. Now you can fully feel it, his warmth. It felt so good, radiating through, making you so wet. You draw your hands onto the back of his neck as he bites your earlobe. Bravely you venture out, touching all over his back.

He moves back onto your neck and begins sucking at it, you can almost feel the blood seeping through the layers of skin, bruising. You wanted Moriarty to leave love bites on your skin as a reminder of the night. You allow you heard to tilt backwards, letting out filthy moans of satisfaction. Trembling with pleasure, you place one hand on Moriarty's neck and the other hand travels down to his crotch, which you rub through the cloth of his jeans.

Never before had sex been this rough, even with the little experience you possess, it was never like this. Sex had always been delicate and never long lasting, but with Moriarty it was the opposite. Hell foreplay alone felt more sensual that any other encounter you had had, but then again weren't many to use as comparatives. Your mind drifts off to you last boyfriend and how he tragically rejected you once you asked him to become exclusive. The sex with him had been good but it could never make up for what an arse he had been.

Drawing your attention back to the present you watch Moriarty as he kisses his way down to your stomach and prompts himself between your legs, his hands applying pressure onto your inner thigh. He pulls your legs closer to him, forcing your back to arch and your pelvis to sick out. He gently kisses your inner thigh, working his way up to your centre. The tickle and warmth of his shallow breathe igniting your nerves, shooting adrenaline and pleasure through your body. Your stomach churns with a raging desire. Now you really want him to take you, anyway he wants; the rougher the better.

He was close now, treading very lightly around your centre, all you want is for him to cut the chase and relieve you of the tension, fulfil your want. He breaks away much to your annoyance and cups both his hands onto your breast, leaning of them. Looking at you again, he tests you for fear and weakness. Even though terrified, you stare straight back into his dilate pupils. A twisted smile breaks out into a satisfied laugh.

"Jim, where's the fucking tea?" A loud growling voice shouts from outside the bedroom. The voice rudely crashes into room, immediately breaking the mood. You panic; who on Earth is that and could his untimely entrance be any more undesirable?

The smile on Moriarty's face instantly collapses and his head falls into your stomach. Snapping back, he looks up, groaning and stares at you apologetically. He sharply breathes in before shouting,

"For fucks sake. Why the fuck do you always do this Sebastian? You fucking arse."  
Even though angry, his reply was smooth. You feel further confused, who is this man and what is his connection to Moriarty?

"Well, where's the fucking tea Jimmy boy," the ominous voice projects back, sounding as arrogant as can be. He clearly has no idea of the occurrences that were about to proceed.

"I told you never fucking call me that. Seb, I warn you, leave now, you shit. Or I will skin you."

It was too late. The voice doesn't bother to reply; instead footsteps stride towards the door. You panic at the sight of being seen naked with someone other than Moriarty. The door handle hinges and the living room light submerge into the bedroom.

"What the fuck are you..." The voice trails off and Moriarty twists to face the voice. You take this opportunity to slide yourself behind Moriarty peering over the edge of his shoulder as his body conceals you.

"Oh... Shit, I'm sorry. Well don't mind me; I'm going to watch..." The voice halts and stares straight at you and that's when it hits you. That husky voice, of course it's Moran: The ass who didn't call you back, leading you to consume an absurd amount of Ben and Jerry's. You take the duvet with you as you jump off the bed to confront him.

"Sebastian. Sebastian Moran?!" You splutter in a fit of rage and shame as Sebastian leisurely gazes at your naked body. He breaks into a smirk causing you to pull the duvet a little tighter.

"Well isn't this the turn out." He playfully ventures still wearing that stupid grin. You couldn't believe the coincidence of the whole situation and how arrogant he was acting. "I see you've moved on from me; I'm hurt." He says mockingly, clutching his chest just to be over the top.

"I. What. How are you...?" You falter the words out; you're embarrassment becoming apparent as you lose the ability to speak.

"I must say, I like your new attire." Sebastian flirted, completely ignoring the fact Moriarty was in the room. "But I'd prefer for it to be on my bedroom floor."

"Wait, how do you two know each other? What's going on? Seb?" You plead, completely taken aback by the entire situation.

Sebastian and Moriarty simply glared at each, both choosing to ignore you.

"This shows over; Moran, explain now. How do you know her?" Moriarty was serious, his eyes were dark but not with lust like before. This time it was anger. Sebastian laughed; he knew he had pushed all the right buttons to annoy Moriarty.

"Now, now Jim. I think you're scaring my plaything." Sebastian whispered. He cocked his head to one side. He was calm, so very composed, which struck you as weird. He should be terrified, how dare he challenge the great Jim Moriarty and more importantly why was he tolerating it? You stand still, trying to make as little noise as possible, hoping they would both forget your presence.

How could you be so stupid? Why did you have to go home with the most dangerous criminal known to man? He was a fugitive in almost every country, a man with the blood of thousands on his hands. And now you were in the middle of a weird sex triangle with him and his what? Roommate? Friend? Associate? You wanted to run, to just leave; forget everything. Moriarty was appealing and gorgeous but you were not ready for him. You hadn't thought about the consequences. Jim was a psychopath, just so changeable; he could get bored of you in a split second and order your execution. The danger that surrounded Moriarty was the very thing that attracted you to him at first but now the sober reality crept in and the highs of lust and yearning dissipated leaving you feeling vulnerable and sicken with fear.

Jim stood up; walking passed you, placing himself in between yourself and Sebastian.

"Sebastian, do not test my patience." Jim grimaced; he was now seething with fury. You wish for Sebastian to speak up, to excuse you from having to explain the situation to Jim yourself. You couldn't bring yourself to talk about it; especially in this situation.

"You're no fun Jim. Old age has gotten the better of you. Pity." Sebastian purred the words out, enunciating the word "pity". Jim didn't bother to talk, he just glared.

"I fucked her. Good lay, you should have fun tonight." Sebastian said, completely serious. Humiliation was what you had felt before; now, no words could explain the painful embarrassment that filled you. Sebastian turned to you and locked his eyes on yours. "Sorry I didn't call poppet. I've been busy."

Taking a glance at Moriarty you decide against speaking out. He wanted blood. He was fuming and all he could see was red. He advanced towards you until he stood an inch away from you. _Well, you had lead a good life, if the time to say goodbye was now, let it be._You ceased to breathe, too scared to move. Nothing was intimate about this; he looked like a predator about to attack his prey. His facial expression was menacing. Raising a hand, he laced it around your neck, gripping it slightly allowing his thumb to stroke your thorax. You blink rapidly trying your hardest to stop the tears but the great Moriarty didn't need tears as an indicator for fear, he could smell the fear bubbling through you. He got off on it. His hold became firmer and you now struggle to breathe.

"Leave. I'll deal with you later." Moriarty said, releasing his grip. Your hand quickly travels to your neck, trying to sooth the pain. You wanted to cry, you felt like you had betrayed him. How were you to know that Sebastian was a friend of Moriarty's? A single tear rolled down your cheek and you nodded in agreement, still refusing to make eye contact. You had to say something, explain it, beg for forgiveness but you could tell he was in no mood for talking. You looked down on the floor, searching for your clothes which conveniently were pooled around Moriarty. He bent down, picking them up all at once and threw them at you. He harshly exhaled and darted a look at you.

"I hate to be rude but I really think you have outstayed your welcome sweetheart." Sebastian cruelly said. He was enjoying this and the way he was flaunting his enjoyment made you feel even worse. Moriarty clenched his fists and tightened his jaw, fighting the urge to get his hands dirty and kill everyone in the room. You could see the criminal within him growing, he wanted death.

You decided to find the courage to leave, scurrying with the duvet still wrapped around you. Moriarty's eyes still followed you, you could feel it: A powerful, scrutinizing look that penetrated you, reaching the very core of your soul. Sebastian annoyingly was blocking the doorway. _Fuck, just what I need._Judging from his face he had no intention of moving without hassling you. And Sebastian did not disappoint; he raised his arms towards you gesturing for a hug.

"Don't I get a goodbye hug?" He purred, placing his hand on your shoulder, rubbing small circles using his thumb. His touch felt so good but you didn't allow him to have the satisfaction of knowing that. Quickly, you shrugged his hand off and barged passed him.

"Call me!" he shouted after you but didn't bother to turn to look at him.

_God what do I do now? I'm naked, in Jim fucking Moriarty's apartment. I need to find a way out. Now._

You quickly put your underwear on and jeans, the bra clasp was too complicated to manage with your shaking hands so you just put on your shirt. You do the center button and head towards the door, not wasting any time. Your bag was where you had left it on the floor by the shoe rack. _Fuck, shit fuck. Shoes!_You realise your red heels were on the floor, in Moriarty's bedroom. You internally debate whether to go in and get them. _Don't be so foolish. You can't. He'll kill you, then and there. But you can't leave without shoes…_Then the daunting thought hits you. They knew. The both of them must have realised you forget them the moment you left the room. Moriarty was probably waiting for you to come back to get them. He tricked you into thinking you had some sort of escape, redemption, a pass to leave. _No. You must leave now; being barefooted was the least of your problems._Without another glance you open the door, not allowing a moments doubt to change your decision, and leave.

**A/N Well my lovelies, thus concludes the end of the first chapter. I hope you've enjoyed it and until next time. Please leave me your comments!**


End file.
